A Royal Affair
by loredana
Summary: The wedding of the century is off. The world wonders what drove the dashing king of England, Robert of Henstridrige, and his beautiful fiancee, Wilhelmina Moreno, apart. And it seems awfully suspicious that both the fiancee and the king's brother are missing at the same time. But behind the glamour and the scandalous headlines, there's a story of heartache and betrayal.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, everyone!**

 **I have recently binged watched the whole almost 4 seasons of The Royals, after having seen the first season when it first came out. I remembered how much I loved the characters on this show and been extremely excited to see how much its improved over time.**

 **The addition of Robert in season 3 was a risky move, I think, but it really paid off. Season 3 and the current season have been, by far, my favorites. So much so that I have decided to start writing this story.**

 **A Royal Affair is a multi-chapter fic that will be split into 10 chapters (the same number as the episodes per season). I tend to be a very wordy writer so expect the chapters to be quite long. It's also AU, in the sense that it extends beyond the season 4 finale into an original story. All in all, everything that has happened until now is still true in this story with the exception of a few things:**

 **1\. I've changed the ages of the characters slightly, moving Robert's age from 24 (as it's stated in the first season) to his early 30s. The twins and Willow are in their late twenties, as is Jasper.**

 **2\. I changed the timeline of the coup slightly. Big reveals and fights at weddings are a very old and overused troupe in my view so I've moved the timeline of the coup before the wedding, and before the actual start of this story. This first chapter deals with the aftermath of that.**

 **3\. The involvement of the characters in the coup: from the promo of the last episode it's obvious both Eleanor and Willow will, in some way, be involved in Liam's plan but for the purposes of this story, they were not.**

 **Hope this is clear enough. If anything is confusing, please let me know.**

 **While the story focuses mostly on Willow/Robert/Liam, there will be Jaspenor add-ons. They were the reason I first started liking this show and they still have a very special place in my heart.**

 **Any scene in italics is a flashback. There will be a few of them through out the story.**

 **Thank you so much to anyone who reads this. I hope you enjoy it. There will be further notes at the end of the chapter.**

 **Chapter 1**

 _ **Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds**_

"A young child whisked away to Argentina, only to return to her royal roots. A prince coming back from the dead to reclaim his father's crown from the ashes. Their engagement captured the imagination of the world. But what began as a real life fairy tale, soon turned into a nightmare. "

Robert leaned against the sofa in his study, his hand clasped around his whiskey glass. He sipped slowly, methodically, if be it a bit too often, as he watched the news coverage.

The blond presenter talked facing the camera, while in the background pictures of him and Willow at various events were paraded in what could only be described at this point as a macabre exhibition.

One of the pictures had been taken at the Legacy Exhibit, on the same day they had announced their engagement. Robert was momentarily distracted by the dress that Willow had worn that night. A wickedly sexy figure hugging piece. Not that it mattered now …

"What happened?" the presenter continued. "Where did it all go wrong? And where is the woman that could have become the next Queen of England? Today, on what would have been their wedding day, we will try to answer these questions and much more. And here to help me do just that is the reputable journalist and royal insider, William Hurst."

The camera panned out to reveal the show's guest. An old bore who wore far too much cologne and most likely dyed his hair. A hanger on who had made a living out of commenting on his family's affairs for the simple reason that he was tolerated at Royal Events. His late great-grandfather had been knighted at the beginning of the 20th century, a distinction no one could quite remember the circumstances of but that everyone agreed entitled his great-grandson to the crumbs off the royal table.

"William, you have been covering the Royals for the past 30 years, have you not?"

"Indeed, Alice. It has been my privilege and my honor to be in the proximity of this remarkable family for quite some time now."

"Rumor has it that the king has always been very fond of you."

Hurst smiled widely, evidently pleased by the suggestion. "Well I do remember his Majesty kicking a ball in my direction when he was just 5 years old. I must have been an appealing target."

Robert remembered that as well. It had happened 6 months after the twins were born. His parents had decided to allow journalists on the palace grounds in order for the country to get a sense of what a day with the Royal family looked like. It had only been for show, of course, except for his "attack" on Hurst. He had gotten a bit too close for comfort so Robert had whacked the ball to keep him away.

After the interview was over, his father had taken him aside and told him never to do that again. His whole life cameras would be flashed at him and microphones would be shoved in his face. He could not afford public displays of discomfort.

"Having known King Robert for as long as you have, what do you make of the people saying that the annulment of the wedding came as no surprise? They seem to be insinuating that the king's treatment of his fiancée was, at times, aloof and showed very little real feeling."

Hurst shook his head, apparently aggravated. "I think that comes from a basic misunderstanding of what the monarchy is. People cannot expect the king to behave in the same way any fellow on the street of London would. This young man has had enormous pressure put on him from a very young age: to act in a certain way, behave in a certain way. Overt displays of affection are not compatible with the dignity of the office that he holds."

"Still, you have to admit there was a visible distance between them," the presenter continued. "Even in these photos …" She points at the image behind them, of him and Willow talking to Liam. "There is visible tension there. Was the whole engagement a publicity stunt?"

"Absolutely not! The king would have nothing to gain from that and everything to lose. He is far too clever and far too rational to do such a thing. He has done remarkable work in a very short period of time. I think sometimes we forget that a year and a half ago, we all thought he was dead. The way he has reentered public life and taken over the duties of monarch, despite even the appalling failings of Parliament during the blackout, has been nothing short of inspiring.

However, I do believe he rushed to judgment when deciding to announce his engagement. Wilhemina Moreno was not the right person for the job and I don't believe she ever will be. Her sudden and unexplainable disappearance one week before the wedding proves she lacks the basic qualities to be able to represent the Royal family in any capacity."

"And speaking of family … the king's fiancée isn't the only one that is missing from the public eye. The king's brother, Prince Liam, is also visibly absent. Do you believe they …?"

Robert turned off the TV and gulped down the last of the scotch. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain composed. He was the king. He couldn't afford public displays of discomfort.

-oOo-

Ever since she was a little girl, she would play a mind game. Whenever she was on holiday, whenever she was at a particularly good party or simply having a fun day at the park, she would asses her surroundings and asked herself what she was missing for that moment to be perfect. She knew that when she could honestly say that there was nothing else she wanted or needed, she would know what it was to be truly happy.

Standing on the shores of the beach in Copacabana, feet firmly buried in the soft sand, the warm water lapping around her calves, making her long dress stick to her legs, she felt as if she had reached paradise.

This place had always taken her breath away. She hadn't been back for many years but she could still remember the holidays spent here with her parents.

The expansive stretch of white sand and the crystal clear blue water hitting against the shore in an almost hypnotic rhythm had been etched in her memory ever since and she was pleased to discover it was the same as she remembered.

The people hadn't changed much either. Still the same vibrant, noisy crowd that had made Rio de Janeiro the party place of the world. The same soccer fans enthusiastically singing their favorite team's anthem while gulping down their glass of chopp. The same beautiful cariocas displaying the bodies that had made them famous the world over.

She smiled when she recalled her mother's shock at the miniscule amount of clothing people wore here. For a country born English woman, the display had seemed almost obscene. But the puritanism of English custom couldn't be further from the freedom and acceptance with which the Brazilians treated their bodies.

Now, more than ever, she appreciated the lack of pretense or protocol.

She must have stood there for hours watching the sun set and the night slowly creeping in over the landscape. It was her favorite time of day. Once the bustle of the day had gone and the lively noise had dimmed, it felt as if she was standing on the edge between two worlds.

From behind her, the energizing sound of electronic music mixed with the traditional samba coming from the numerous night bars beckoned her back to reality. In front of her, the vast open water, glimmering beneath the soft light of the moon kept asking: _"What are you missing?"_

"Willow …"

She turned around to see Liam standing there, the same warm, kind smile on his face he always reserved for the people closest to him. He had two glasses of tequila in his hands.

"I already ordered a second round," he said, handing her one of the glasses. "Cheers!"

They clinked their glasses before downing them in one go.

It felt like liquid fire and it made her eyes water. She exhaled deeply, as the familiar warmth spread through her body.

"Come on," she said, smiling. "Let's order a third."

-oOo-

"Robert, you can't be serious!"

He had insisted on having lunch in the private apartments that day, with both his mother and Eleanor. Ever since the coup that his mother had orchestrated with Liam and his uncle Cyrus, Robert knew he had to watch himself when it came to her.

He only took comfort in the fact that Eleanor was still on his side. The one member of his family that would never plot against him or abandon him.

His decision to withdraw Liam's Royal protection and freeze his funds would, without a doubt, be met with resistance and he wanted her to hear it from him. He wanted to make sure Len understood he was doing it for the right reasons.

His mother was aghast at the news, which he had anticipated. His sister, however, seemed absent, playing with the food on her plate, which was surprising.

She had insisted on bringing the bodyguard with her. He was a most unwelcome intruder to what was, after all, a private affair. Robert didn't know how much longer he could tolerate him. He was certain he too had a part to play in his brother's failed attack.

Still, one thing at a time. First he needed to deal with Liam. Eleanor's commoner would have to wait.

"I have never been more serious," he said, while cutting his meat in precise chunks.

"He is in Rio, for God's sake! During carnival season, no less. There's thugs around every corner. Someone might attack him or worse."

"Your concern for him is understandable, mum. But he is a fully grown adult. Perhaps it's time he learned to fend for himself."

"Robert, I know this is hard for you. I understand how you must be feeling …"

He wondered if she truly did understand. His brother had ran away with his fiancée, a week after he had plotted to dethrone him. It was bad enough that he had to worry about his own mother attempting to destroy everything he was building and to suffer the humiliation of canceling the wedding. But seeing pictures of Liam and his former fiancée in Rio, having the time of their lives, he really couldn't tolerate. Not on his dime in any case and not with his security detail.

"He's your brother!" Helena raised her voice, forcing Robert to look up at her for the first time in the conversation.

"He is a disgrace! He made his choice, now he must live with the consequences."

"Were you always like this?"Eleanor finally spoke, in a measured, contained tone. That was always an indication to Robert that an explosion was about to follow. His sister trying to control her temper was like trying to control a nuclear weapon after having deployed it.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"When I was young and I idolized you, is this what you were like?" She seemed genuinely upset, her eyes watery and her face contorted. It always had a debilitating effect on him. "What happened to you, Robbie?"

In the present circumstances, however, his anger could not give way to more tender feelings.

"Well, I don't know … I've been made a laughing stock by my own brother who ran away with my fiancée a week before we were to marry. Not to mention that I've had to deal with the cancelation of the Royal wedding that has cost the people of this country millions of pounds. Other than that, not much. How about you, sis?"

"I found out my brother is reprehensible."

Robert dropped his knife and fork on the table. He had suddenly lost his appetite. "How is it that Liam is the one always making a mockery of this family and I'm the one who is always the bad guy?"

Helena tried to intervene: "No one is saying that, darling …"

"I'm saying it!" Eleanor shouted. "Don't you see that he wants Liam dead, mum? He sits there" she said pointing at him, "pretending to care about us but that's all it is. A lie."

"Babe, stop …"

Of course! The bodyguard had to intervene. It was bad enough to have Eleanor speak to him that way but then to have that man witness it and think he had the right to offer an opinion …

"No, Jasper. I'm done! I can't do this anymore. All he's ever done since getting back from that island is use and manipulate us!"

"Have I really? Please, Len, tell me … When have _I_ ever manipulated you?"

"Christmas Eve …" she said, as if throwing the words at him.

The accusation stopped Robert's righteous anger. She looked at him, as if pleading for him to deny it, to say something to defend himself but he found that he couldn't. Not when she had the same pained look on her face that he had imagined on the island every time he didn't signal that damned boat.

He simply dropped his head and sighed.

"What is it, king?" she said. "You have nothing to say?"

Eleanor waited a few moments but the silence was deafening. She pushed her chair back, dragging the legs over the wooden floor with a loud, screeching sound. "I'm so done with this shit!"

She ran out of the room, followed closely by Frost, her ever present shadow.

"What was that about?"

Robert realized his mother was still there, obviously confused by the whole conversation.

"What happened on Christmas Eve?"

"You mean aside from you being attacked by a figgy pudding whilst having spontaneous sexual intercourse with your Lord Chamberlain?"

"Don't be insolent!"

Robert sighed. "I may have called Jasper's father and encouraged him to contact a reporter that would be interested in his son's sketchy history and his current relationship with Eleanor."

"FML, Robert! What were you thinking?"

"I come back after ten months to find my sister dating the help! And not only that, an ex-con man from Las Vegas no less. I think a better question would be: what were you thinking?"

Helena's face made him grateful there was no red wine on the table. But instead of the quick and violent rebuttal he was expecting, she got up from the far end of the table and came to sit next to him.

She took his hand, which in turn provoked a frown. Sudden bursts of affection from his mother were starting to make him suspicious.

"Robert, a lot happened in those ten months you were away. I changed, Liam changed and Eleanor changed as well. Jasper Frost might not have been my first choice for her or even the last one if you had a say in the matter but the fact is, it's what she wants. You have to accept it."

"Accept the fact that the King of England's brother in law is a common charlatan? I don't think my acceptance can stretch that far."

Helena pressed on, gripping his hand tighter as if to make a point. "I know it couldn't have been easy being on that island … and I know you think what Liam and I did was … "

"Mum …" He really didn't want to talk about that.

"No, listen. I know we've hurt you and that we betrayed your trust. You've been through a lot ..."

"I'm fine, mum."

"You are my son and I love you but you are not fine! Your relationship with your family is in tatters, you've isolated yourself from everyone and worst of all, you are making us all question your intentions. Is Eleanor right? Do you want your brother dead?"

"I don't remember you asking Liam that question when he was pointing a gun at me. Or when you and he were planning to dethrone me."

He expected a rehash of the old excuses: we thought you were getting out of hand or his favorite: we were convinced you had caused the blackout. But no excuse was offered. His mother simply dropped her eyes and kept holding on to him. "I'm sorry …" she finally said.

Robert pulled out his hand from Helena's grip and got up. "Thank you for lunch, mother. We really should eat together more often."

-oOo-

The Magic Ball at the Copacabana was a time for pagentry and over the top celebration. Anyone who was anyone flocked to the event like moths to the flame.

In hindsight, perhaps it wasn't a very wise decision to attend considering the place was most likely swarmed by paparazzi. But under the cover of their masks and taking comfort in the fact that they remained completely anonymous in the sea of people that had crowded Rio in the past week, they couldn't resist the bright, colorful lights. Spectacle, it seemed, was in their blood, as hard as it was to admit it.

As Willow came down the grand staircase in the lobby, dressed in her red ball gown, she couldn't help but remember the iconic scene from Titanic. The ruffled chiffon train rustled softly as she made her way down towards her very own version of Leonardo Di Caprio.

Liam, perhaps, felt the same way because, as she reached him, he took her hand and kissed it.

"I saw that in a Nickelodeon once, " he said, making his best attempt at speaking with an American accent. "And I always wanted to do it."

They stared at each other longingly doing their best impression of Leo and Kate. It only lasted a moment before they were unable to keep up the pretense and they both burst out laughing.

"That was terrible!" he said.

"You think that's terrible? I almost tripped half way down the stairs."

She picked up her train to avoid any more mishaps and they started walking towards the ballroom, side by side, still laughing.

"I think it's official," he said. "That scene should've sunk to the bottom of the ocean with the rest of the boat."

As they entered the grand room, they were immediately submersed into the colorful lights that illuminated people from all angles, in shades of purple, green and yellow. The place was packed with men dressed in tuxedoes and women wearing lavish dresses and feathered hairpieces that were meant to evoke the spirit of the carnival taking place outside.

Inside, though, it was a much more formal affair. Champagne flowed and the tropical sounds of the music had most people on the dance floor doing their best to imitate the exuberance that was, no doubt, engulfing the streets of Rio.

The dancers on stage, dressed in their most festive and revealing feathered attires, brought on a sense of tribal earthiness: shirtless men with glittering ebony skin and tanned women with skirts so short you could see their bikinis. They danced feverishly around the stage that had been filled with greenery so as to resemble the Amazon, as the guests clapped enthusiastically but never took part in it.

It was a celebration of tribal culture but in that very sanitized, colonial manner that affluent people had. They wanted to be seen as embracing it but at the same time that they were far removed from the inherit rudimentary nature that they imagined was at the base of such extroversion.

As she looked up, Willow was mesmerized by the immense fixtures hanging down from the ceiling: large suns and moons moving languidly side by side, as they could never be seen in real life. She and Liam moved slowly through the mass of people, picking up glasses of champagne from the offered trays and downing them.

The music had them moving almost involuntarily. As they faced each other and were about to embrace, the flash of a camera came too close for comfort. Willow jumped up, breaking away from Liam.

"Let's go to the veranda," he whispered, taking her hand and leading her away from the stage.

Like any exclusive event, the Magic Ball was divided into classes. The richest sat at tables, at the center of the action. The less affluent ones were relegated to the edges, or in this case the veranda, the advantage being that it was less likely to be swarmed by the paparazzi.

With yet another glass of champagne in hand, they leaned against the stone balcony that overlooked the entire city below. Even though it was night, the streets were a sea of lights and sounds. Music mixed with people talking or laughing, sending their echoes through out the city.

"Something tells me they're having a much better time than us," Liam said, looking down at a group of men walking down the street singing on top of their lungs.

"It just goes to show you … money doesn't guarantee you a good time," Willow said and started laughing.

"Why are you laughing? That's down right sad," Liam said, trying very hard not to laugh himself.

"Nothing," she said, shaking her head. "It just reminded me of this very old telenovela I used to watch as a kid … Los Ricos tambien lloran."

Liam frowned.

"The rich also cry," she explained.

"I think it's the first time I've ever heard you speak Spanish …"

"Well, I was born in Argentina, Liam. People tend to speak Spanish there."

"They also tend to watch telenovelas apparently …"

"Hey! Don't knock telenovelas, okay?" she said, getting combative all of a sudden. "They're a very misunderstood genre."

Liam raised his hands in surrender, laughing: "Hey, frio partner!"

They both started laughing but their good humor was interrupted. A sharp flash of the camera hit Willow right in the face, momentarily blinding her. She turned away, hiding her face from view. "For heaven's sake! They're everywhere."

Liam grabbed her hand for the second time that evening and said: "Let's get out of here."

They made a run for the exit, ducking and pushing their way through. Willow was glad that she had had the good sense of wearing a dress that was shorter in the front than in the back. Running in a ball gown was much harder than she had suspected.

-oO-

"Are you sure about this?"

Jasper watched with growing concern as the pile of clothes on Eleanor's bed kept getting bigger and bigger with every item she was dragging out of her closet.

"I told you. I'm done with this shit," she said, furiously pulling at a large suitcase from the corner of the room. "Now get your guns from wherever you've hid them and let's go!"

"Look, I know you're angry. I am too but I'm not sure you've really thought through what it's going to mean to leave the palace."

Eleanor stopped and looked at him. "You mean I'll lose my royal privileges, the money, the parties, the fame?"

Jasper nodded.

"Thank God for that! I would gladly give it all up just to stop living in this pit of snakes." She got close to him and took his hands. "I love you. Don't you love me?"

"You know I do …"

She grabbed him by the lapels and kissed him. "Good! Then let's get out of here. This place can go to hell in a bandwagon."

"Handbasket," Jasper said, smiling. "Go to hell in a handbasket."

Eleanor looked puzzled. "That makes no sense."

From the open door, Robert watched the scene, trying to figure out the best moment to interrupt. He finally cleared his voice loudly enough to announce his presence.

Both Eleanor and Jasper turned towards him. Their expressions were less than welcoming, to say the least. He supposed he should expect that.

"I would like to speak to Eleanor, Frost. Would you be so kind as to wait outside?" His tone didn't leave room for a refusal and he was pleased when Jasper moved towards the door.

"No!" Eleanor said, stopping him. "He doesn't get to tell you what to do anymore."

Robert was tempted to tell her that, as the king, Jasper Frost was his subject and he indeed did 'get' to tell him what to do but he thought better of it. He instead looked at him, his expression softened slightly. "I want to speak to my sister for a moment. It won't take long, I promise."

"Talk to him, babe," Jasper said. "I'll be right outside." He kissed her on the cheek before leaving the room, his eyes locked with Robert's in what would likely be seen from the outside as a rather silly starring contest.

Only when the door was firmly closed, did Robert ask: "How long have you known?"

"Does it matter?" she said, shrugging before turning her back on him and continuing her packing.

"Yes, it matters a great deal."

"Since the night Willow left. She told me."

Robert's brain tried to make sense of Eleanor's explanation. If Willow knew, how did she find out?

"She knows about this?" he asked. "Was she plotting together with Liam and mother against me?"

She turned to look at him, her face contorted with anger and sadness. "Ah! There it is!" she said. "The coup. That's all you care about, isn't it? Your precious crown." She shook her head violently. "Willow knew nothing. I asked her to meet me because Jasper had just told me about what Liam and mum had been up to. I wanted to talk to her to make sure I wasn't the only one that had your back. What I found out is that I wasn't the only idiot that trusted you."

"Lenny …"

"You used my words to convince her that you loved her?! How could you? Did you think she wouldn't eventually figure out you were using her the same way you've been using me?"

Robert came towards her, attempting, for the first time, to explain. "Don't say that …I could never use you". He stopped for a moment, unsure of how to continue. Finally, he said: "After becoming king, I resigned myself to the fact that I could no longer trust Liam or mother. One wanted what I had; the other wanted to control it. But you, Len? You have always…"

"Me?" she shouted, tears rolling down her face. " _I_ was blind, Robbie! I never saw you the way you truly are!"

"Don't say that," he said, trying to take her hand.

She jumped back as if repelled by the very thought of being touched by him.

Robert had constructed a very thick armor since coming back from the island. An armor that merely dented when Liam pointed a gun at him and slightly tarnished when he and his mother attempted to overthrow him. After all, what you expect can't truly hurt you. Still, now he found that the rejection of Eleanor, his sister, was the one thing the armor was not prepared to withstand.

"Do you know what really hurts?" she said. "That I loved you most of all. More than mum, more than Liam … More than I loved even dad. "

"I love you too, Lenny."

"No. You don't. If you loved me, you couldn't have done what you did."

He was starting to lose his temper. He refused to believe that she would jeopardize their bond because of a conman turned bodyguard.

"You are my sister and a princess in the most important monarchy on Earth. We can't afford the luxury of allowing just anyone to be around us. I won't apologize for wanting the best for you or for being the only one trying to defend the reputation of this family!"

Eleanor paused for a moment and he waited patiently to see if his words had the desired effect.

He was sorely disappointed when Eleanor started taking off her jewelry piece by piece.

"Well, you won't have to defend it any longer," she said, as she struggled to take off her shoes. "Here! Keep them all. They were all given to Her Royal Highness, Princess Eleanor. She's gone."

As she headed for the door, she spared him one final look. "Good bye, Your Majesty!" she said.

He looked at her as she flew past him. "Really?" he said, finding something a bit amusing in the whole sad affair. "You're going to walk off the palace grounds barefoot?"

She paused for a moment, undoubtedly realizing her state of undress, before turning around as if she had always intended to do so and grabbed the pair of shoes off the floor.

-oOo-

Willow looked at the ice cream cone she was holding with a combination of awe and sheer glee. Where else in the world could you find chocolate ice cream infused with vodka? God, she loved Rio!

She took a big mouthful and looked at Liam with astonishment: "Forget about electricity! This is man's greatest invention!"

Liam laughed. "I always secretly knew that the way to a woman's heart was with booze and chocolate."

"Amin to that!"

They were walking down the promenade, alongside the beach. In any other place, on any other day, taking a stroll down the street in a tuxedo and a ball gown, they would be seen as freaks. Here, they merely blended in. A couple passed by them, their bodies painted to resemble the pattern on a cheetah, complete with furry ears and tails, while in front of them a large group of what were clearly tourists, dressed in bright red and green t-shirts and shorts, whistled loudly to the rhythm played from the drums that could be seen ahead.

"You know, when she got back from her 6 month trip, Eleanor told me that it was the first time she was actually able to enjoy being a tourist. I understand what she meant now …" Liam said.

"You never did touristy things when you were a kid?"

"We traveled a lot. But it all looked the same, really. We only left the palace to end up in another big house somewhere, on the other side of the world. We were always stuck in a room or the private garden … It was like we were living …"

"In a fish bowl?" she asked.

"Yeah … It was like we were always on display. Everywhere we went, we were recognized." He touched the mask on his face and smiled: "They should make these standard issue for all members of the Royal family."

"Well, maybe if your dad was the King of Pop, instead of the King of England …"

As they got closer to the sound of the drums, they were surrounded by people. The band consisted of five people and the music slowly started building up from the rhythmic beat, to the full blown sound of trumpets and a guitar. From the edges couples began coming forward and started dancing, showing off their moves as the rest of the spectators clapped to the beat of the music.

"How is it that everyone here knows how to dance like that?" Liam said astonished. "Do they get free dancing lessons as children?"

"In a way, " Willow said. "They pass it down in the family. Parents teach their children how to dance, friends teach each other … it's just what you do."

Liam was still confused.

"Do you want to learn?" Willow asked.

Before Liam could answer, she was already dragging him towards the improvised dance floor.

It took about three songs for Liam to learn the basic steps, as he kept confusing the forward step for the whisk. Willow realized that it probably would have been better to attempt the lesson before the copious amount of champagne they had ingested that night but at least this way Liam was blissful unaware of the amused glances given by the people around them.

"Right," she said. "Now you need to involve your hips into the whole thing, otherwise you look stiff as an ironing board."

"No, no. Can't do that," Liam said. "I'm English. We disapprove of involving our hips in public."

Willow burst out laughing. In truth, he had never looked more English or more out place than in that moment. Thankfully, he made up for it by being utterly charming.

"You have the greatest laugh. You know that?" he said, as the pace of the music slowed down and they got closer into the embrace.

"So do you …" she whispered. He really did have a wonderful smile. It light up his entire face: warm and kind in an almost childlike way. It had always been one of her favorite things about him.

For a moment the music and the people around them faded away as she saw Liam's face getting closer and closer to her. It had always been her favorite moment, that instant before she knew she was going to get kissed. She allowed herself to indulge in it a bit too long and she was startled as Liam's lips brushed against hers.

"Liam, don't!" she said, pushing him away.

What had she done? The shock of the moment seemed to push her into action. She started walking away from the crowd … fast. Where to, she didn't quite know.

"Willow!"

She could hear Liam behind her but she just kept on moving as she started sobbing.

"Willow, stop!" Liam said, finally catching up with her.

"I can't, Liam. I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. It was too soon. I understand …"

"You don't understand, though," Willow said, furiously wiping at the tears on her cheeks. "I still love him."

The admission stopped them both in their tracks. They had made a pact when arriving in Brazil. They weren't going to talk about Robert or Kathryn. They were there to forget all of that.

Now they had to admit defeat. They had spent the last two weeks in a drunken daze, doing their best yolo impression and it was finally time to stop pretending.

"It's pathetic and sad and stupid," she said. "But I do. There's no point in pretending otherwise. No matter how hard I try to forget, it's always there. Rattling around in my brain."

"It's not pathetic," Liam said, putting his hand on her shoulder.

"Just sad and stupid, then?" she asked, managing a chuckle between sniffs.

She continued, after a while: "I like you, Liam. I do. But I can't jump from one brother to the other. It's not really my style."

Liam nodded, looking away from her.

Willow felt guilty for saying that. She knew it had reminded him of Kathryn. She hadn't meant it in that way but there was really no avoiding it. For some reason women always seemed to find themselves at the crossroads between the two Henstridge brothers.

"Besides …"she said, softening her tone. "There's really no point in doing this to hurt him. He won't be half as upset as we'd like him to be and it would ruin our friendship. And that would be a shame. Because friends are important."

"You're right. They are," he said.

Willow hoped that Liam was as satisfied with the resolution as she was and chose to ignore the disappointed look on his face. They started walking back towards the hotel and neither one of them spoke much.

Looking at the building looming in front of her, Willow began dreading going back to the room. It had become a familiar feeling. During the day, running from one place to another, a drink always in hand, she could just manage to keep the thoughts at bay. But come night time, when she was finally forced to collapse on the bed, the thoughts would start. She would go through every conversation, every moment she spent with him and everything that came after. It was an exhausting exercise in trying to separate the truths from the lies.

As they got closer to the Copacabana entrance, a large group of journalists was gathered around the doors. The atmosphere was heavy with anticipation and aggression, like a pack of wolves getting ready to attack their prey. It sent shivers down Willow's spine.

"What happened here?" Liam said. "Did Madonna jump out the window?"

The moments that followed made them both wish that Madonna had indeed taken a plunge, and been naked when doing so.

One of the journalists looked back and pointed. "Here they are!" he said in a thick Portuguese accent as he began running towards them. In seconds the rest of the group had encircled them, shoving microphones in their faces as the glare of the camera flashes attacked them. Liam and Willow froze into place, completely in shock.

"Prince Liam, are you and Miss Moreno here together?"

"Are you cheating on the king with his brother? Is that why the wedding was canceled?"

"Look here, look here!" the photographers shouted, trying to get their attention.

Willow's entire vision became a blur, the sounds of people's voices turning into an indistinct buzzing. She felt Liam grabbing her hand and dragging her through the swarm of people, pushing at them to let them pass, as he tried to get both of them to the relative safety of the lobby.

"Whore!"

Willow turned instinctively when the Brazilian photographer shouted at her, as she passed by him.

"Whore, look here!" he said again.

"What did you say to her?" she heard Liam say.

"Was she a good fuck?" the man asked, as he snapped picture after picture.

She felt Liam letting go of her hand and then watched in horror as he dived past her and grabbed the paparazzi. He wrestled him to the floor and started punching him.

-oOo-

 _Willow sat on the sofa in Robert's study, sincerely wishing she was somewhere else. He had insisted she stayed._

" _You are part of this family now. Soon you will be the Queen," he had said._

 _With every day that passed Willow realized that being part of the Henstridge family involved more than being drugged by a rival or ducking glasses of red wine over dinner. It involved betrayal._

 _In this case, Liam's betrayal. Who, in turn, felt betrayed by Robert._

 _If anybody else had found out that their family had plotted to take away everything from them in the most public way possible, they would have understandably initiated the world's most epic fight._

 _But Robert wasn't like anyone else she had ever met. His brother's attempted coup 2 weeks before his wedding had not come as a surprise to him. She could tell. He must have known for some time, which is why he had been able to squash it so effectively. But it had hurt him … deeply. Willow could tell that too._

 _She had wanted to talk to him about it. In his usual way, Robert didn't refuse her attempt, but he didn't talk either. What he did do is gather his mother and brother into the study to tell them exactly what he had decided to do with them._

 _It all felt extremely formal and extremely medieval. After telling his mother he no longer required her to perform any royal duties seeing as Willow would soon become queen, he dismissed her from the room with barely a word._

 _The same could not be said of Liam._

 _Robert leaned against his desk as his brother stood in front of him. He did not speak for a long time, giving Liam time to build up to the point of breaking._

" _I won't apologize for it." Liam said." I did what was best for the country. You lied to the people and to us. You never plan on reinstating Parliament."_

" _The worst thing about being King," Robert said, "is that everyone wants what I have. And that includes you, brother."_

" _Keep your crown. I don't want it."_

" _What you have done today has brought disgrace not only to this family, but to the entire institution of the monarchy. I cannot forgive you."_

" _I don't need your forgiveness," Liam shouted._

" _If this had happened three hundred years ago, you'd be hanged," Robert continued, seemingly unperturbed by Liam's anger. "Or at the very least, you'd be thrown in prison."_

" _So which is it?" Liam asked defiantly. "The tower or a public execution?"_

 _Willow held her breath. She had seen Robert angry before, but not like this. The cold and calculating way in which he was talking made him seem almost a stranger to her. Would he really be capable of sending his own brother to prison or worse …?_

" _I don't want you dead, brother." Robert finally said. "And I don't want you in prison."_

 _Willow exhaled audibly. She felt slightly guilty for even thinking that Robert was capable of such a thing. He was a good man, she knew it. She had seen it. After everything he had been through, to have his family betray him this way. No wonder he was upset._

" _But I don't want you here," he continued. "After the wedding is over, you'll leave Britain and never come back."_

" _So you're banishing me."_

" _You will keep your title and the money that goes with it, as well as the protection of the Palace. But, if you wish to think of it that way, then yes, I'm banishing you."_

" _Robert …don't … He's your brother," Willow barely whispered but it seemed deafening in the silence that followed._

" _Don't waste your breath, Willow," Liam said. He looked Robert up and down in disgust before leaving the room._

 _Willow watched as Robert calmly went round his desk and sat down, beginning to write something down. She swallowed hard before getting up._

" _Robert …" she said, getting closer to the desk. "Don't you think that's excessive? Perhaps if you talked things through …"_

 _He looked up at her and his cold stare made her pause mid-sentence._

" _In two weeks' time you will be my wife and there is no one whose opinion I value more but never take his side again, Willow."_

She held her phone in her hand tightly, as she looked at the screen and relived the moment that signaled the complete unraveling of what she had thought was the most important relationship of her life.

She had known she had to call Robert the moment the police came and took Liam away, right from the entrance of the Copacabana. It was as if they knew the fight would happen and were just waiting for Liam to snap.

And yet she hesitated even when she rushed to the police station demanding to speak to Liam and was denied. As she finally pressed the red button, she convinced herself that Robert would help. She no longer held any illusions that he would care enough for his brother to want him to be safe. But the scandal? Surely Robert Henstridge would care about that.

When he answered, Willow felt her heart racing out of her chest even though he didn't say anything. She hated that traitorous organ and told herself that she was doing this for Liam.

"Hello, Robert. It's Willow …"

There was no answer so she rambled on. "I supposed you already know that … I … I'm calling because of Liam. Something terrible has happened … he's in prison. He was arrested a few hours ago …"

Still, no answer. Willow bit her lip before saying: "Please … you need to help him."

The silence on the other end lasted a few seconds longer, enough for Willow to start shaking. Then she finally heard his voice.

"Liam's affairs are no longer of any interest to me or the Royal family. Never call this number again." And the line went dead.

-oOo-

Standing in the hallway, outside his study, and after ending the call with the woman that would have been his wife, Robert Henstridge found that he needed a moment to compose himself. He took a deep breath and fixed his jacket. A few minutes passed before he moved and entered the room.

There, on the sofa, laying provocatively and dressed only in her black lingerie, was the personification of a timely distraction.

"Hello, my darling."

Robert smiled and came closer to her. "Cassandra … your timing is impeccable."

He bent down and kissed her.

 **For anyone who has made it this far, congratulations! lol I know it's very long but I have to cram a lot in 10 chapters so I hope it was an enjoyable ride at least.**

 **I know there will be many questions that were left unanswered but rest assured future chapters will begin to unravel all the mysteries.**

 **Please let me know what you think down in the comments and see you soon! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, guys! Back with another chapter. Sorry for the long wait but the chapters are very long so it takes me a bit of time to write them. I also wanted to wait to see the seson finale to see if I could incorporate anything from it. Please let me know what you think in the comments section.**

 **I would like to thank everyone for the wonderful feed-back and for reading. I hope you enjoy this new chapter as much as the last one!**

 **Chapter 2**

 _ **Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow**_

"… and in other news … This marks the second day that His Royal Highness, Prince Liam, has been imprisoned in Rio de Janeiro."

The news anchor spoke gravely, his tone marking the severity of the situation. A situation that was continuing to unravel right before Robert's eyes.

He kept his eyes affixed on the screen of his laptop, as he was typing out an appropriate response to be given to the press. As he tried to compose a measured, formal statement that both acknowledged Liam's mistake but also didn't tarnish his reputation in a way that would hurt the entire credibility of The Firm, Robert could feel his fingers hitting the keys harder and harder with each letter. Was there no end to Liam's stupidity?

"With details as to the cause of the prince's imprisonment still murky, the eyes of the world turn to the Palace where the king is due to give a press conference in the following hours. This is yet another in a series of scandals that has myriad the Royal family since the death of King Simon. With issues of British security overseas and national laws possibly in danger from Royal influence, King Robert seems to be faced with a seemingly impossible choice."

He could hear his mother long before she came into his study. Her high heels pierced the floor as she marched down the hallway before bursting into the room, holding a large stack of newspapers.

"Have you completely lost your mind?" she shouted. "How dare you stop me from attending the press conference?"

"I was merely rectifying an unwise decision," he said, not looking up from the screen.

Helena grabbed a hold of the laptop and pushed it shut, forcing Robert to withdraw his hand quickly. "I am not competing with that thing. Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

Robert grit his teeth and looked up at his mother. "I thought I had made myself clear last month. There will be no more dissenting opinions in this family. We will present a united front to the world, under one voice… Mine!"

She took a deep breath before speaking: "Robert, you know me well enough to know that I will not stand by idly and watch my youngest son go to prison. You want to present the world with only one voice? Fine. Just as long as that voice says what I want it to say."

"And what is it that you want, mother?"

"I want you to get your brother out of prison. This is ridiculous! Irrelevant Hollywood nobodies have been attacking the paparazzi for decades and they've gotten Oscars for it. Your brother punches one of these swamp dwellers and he goes to prison in Brazil? Would you really have me believe that you had nothing to do with it?"

"Your faith in my abilities is touching, mum," Robert said, still feeling the sting of the accusation. "But contrary to popular belief, I do not hold any sway over the justice system of other sovereign nations."

"Robert, look at me," Helena said, leaning over his desk and looking straight into his eyes. "Did you have anything to do with this?"

"Absolutely not!"

Helena seemed satisfied with his denial. "What are you doing to get him out?"

"Let me worry about that," he said. "There's no reason for you to trouble yourself."

Helena sighed. "It won't work, you know."

When Robert looked puzzled, she continued: "You think you're punishing Liam with this but you're punishing yourself too. Have you read the headlines today?"

She started throwing the newspapers she was holding on the table, one by one. "King Robert, the vengeful brother," she quoted. "No wonder Willow left him for Liam … Hell hath no fury like a king scorned …"

"Enough," he said.

"You getting hold of the tapes of what happened, trying to keep it under wraps, it won't help, Robert … The journalists that were there talked. They know Wilhelmina was with him. Is this how you want to be perceived? As the vengeful brother attacking two young lovers?"

"I said enough, mother!" Robert's raised voice finally stopped Helena's deluge.

He hated himself for losing control. It was always a clear indication that whatever had been said had gotten to him. The humiliation that he felt was sufficient without having people knowing about it. He got up and fastened the button on his jacket.

"Your petition on behalf of Liam has been received. The King," he said, "will give you his decision in due course."

He moved towards the door but his mother's words stopped him.

"This is a dangerous game you're playing, my little idiot. Be careful or you'll end up playing it completely alone."

He turned and smiled at her, in a particular way he reserved only for the people he had an upper hand on. "Speaking of games … I hear Henry Acton is back in town."

"Our ambassador to Brazil?" Helena asked.

"Yes. I've requested he return to London," Robert said matter of factly. "I remembered you were friends. Perhaps you can use this time to catch up and reminisce about the old days."

He could see that this had caught his mother off guard. As he suspected, she had intended to use Acton's influence to intervene for Liam, behind his back. Robert was determined not to be undermined this time.

"If you'll excuse me, I have a press conference in a few minutes."

-oOo-

 _My world is more vibrant because of you … My heart aches and my body trembles but I would walk away from all of it to be with you for the rest of time …_

 _The words still rang in her ears as she made her way towards his study. When he spoke them, he had seemed so earnest, so vulnerable. She even thought she detected tears in his eyes._

 _It had been a turbulent time for them. Cassandra's attack, the decision to abolish Parliament permanently, Liam's coup and Robert's coldness at banishing him, his refusal to talk to her about what he was going through… it had all made her confused and fearing the worst. So after weeks of doubt about his feelings towards her and even about his moral character, it had come as a blessed relief to be reassured that his feelings for her were genuine. That this was not a publicity stunt, but a marriage between two people that were deeply in love._

 _When Eleanor told her that those words were not Robert's but hers, stolen from a letter he undoubtedly destroyed in order to keep her away from Jasper, Willow was once again left in utter confusion. That was the most terrible thing of all. That she never got any clarity … not about him, not about their relationship, not about any of it._

 _She decided to confront him once again, this time resolute in finding out exactly what his intentions were._

 _The door to the study was slightly open and she could distinctly hear two voices._

" _I told you that one of these nights you were going to wake up and need me."_

 _As she got closer, Willow fell completely still as she watched Cassandra's arms encircling her fiancée's neck. Robert's back was turned to the door so she couldn't see his expression but she heard his words clearly enough._

" _Just like the Trojan princess you were named after, you are a true fortune teller, Cassandra."_

" _Luckily, unlike the Trojans, you listened to me,. Otherwise, your brother's horse would have burnt your reign to the ground by now."_

" _And I am very grateful for your assistance."_

" _Gratitude is good," she said, her mouth getting closer to his. "Reward is better."_

" _What reward do you have in mind?"_

" _Get rid of your precious little puppet. She might look sweet enough in a white dress, but she's not the queen you need."_

 _Willow bit her lip hard to stop herself from screaming. She could feel her stomach twisting painfully, as she waited for Robert's answer. Each moment hurt her in ways she didn't even know she could be hurt and yet she remained nailed in place._

" _I can't do that," he said._

 _She caught herself exhaling audibly and she feared that they might have over heard._

" _It's far too late for all of that now," he went on to explain. "It would be a public scandal." As Cassandra moved away from him, evidently displeased with his answer, he caught her by the waist and pulled her closer to him. "Besides, she is exactly the queen I need … in public at least."_

 _The last part intrigued Cassandra and she looked at him._

" _She is sweet, demure," he said, caressing her face, "and most importantly, easily manageable."_

" _Unlike me?"_

" _Let her play the queen in public. I can think of far more important things you can be doing in private."_

 _She found herself moving from the door, almost without realizing it. Her face was covered in tears but she couldn't remember at what point she had started crying. She had come there to find clarity. And now that she had, part of her wished she had remained blind._

Willow pushed her way forward through the queue of people. The local police station in Rio was filthy, crowded and overheated. If this was any indication of what the cells were like, she knew Liam must be in hell. Still, it was far better than being moved to an actual Brazilian prison, a place where gangs dominated and wars between inmates were an almost daily occurrence.

She made her way towards the captain's office, holding a piece of paper tightly in her hand … the key to Liam's freedom.

"Good afternoon, Captain Sousa," she said, sitting down across from the man, not giving him enough time to invite her in.

"Ah, Miss Moreno," he said, dragging his words. He spoke surprisingly good English for a local official.

The room they were in was small and reeked of tobacco. The paint on the walls had, at one point, been white but had now turned an unflattering shade of smoky grey. A fan creaked overhead attempting to compensate for the lack of ventilation but as she felt the sweat built up on her upper lip it was clearly doing a very poor job of it.

The strangest thing of all was the way the room contrasted with the man in front of her. He was tall, with blond hair and blue eyes. He was elegant and his clothes had been hand pressed. He looked impeccable and completely out of place.

She assumed he came from an affluent background. That would have explained the European descent and the English proficiency, at least. Also the fact that the British ambassador had to call the station three times before he was able to speak to the captain.

"I have brought this," she said, handing him the document and attempting to appear as calm as possible. "It is a letter from the British ambassador who has been authorized by Her Majesty, Queen Helena, to speak on her behalf. She requests the immediate release of her son and assures you of her eternal gratitude."

Sousa remained silent, inspecting the document. "Hmmm," he finally said. "Remarkable …"

"Sir?"

"It is an honor for this humble official to receive a letter from the Queen of Great Britain."

Willow smiled, pleased that the letter had the desired effect.

"You will have to excuse me … I am not very familiar with the customs of your country. But isn't your king the head of state? I assumed that he would be in charge of all official requests."

Willow swallowed hard. Sousa was planting a trap and she was perilously close to falling into it. "Sir, this request does not come at the behest of only the queen, but the entire Royal family. That much is implied …Also, as the ambassador points out, releasing Prince Liam would only be a continuation of the good will that has always existed between yourself and the Embassy."

"Yes, that is true. Mr. Acton and I have always had a good relationship. Considering the large number of British tourists coming here every year, it was a mutually beneficial agreement … However, Miss Moreno, as the ambassador was removed from office today, I do not hold myself bound to that agreement."

"Removed?"

"Yes. Aside from that, I have received word from my superior that we need to treat the Prince as any other inmate. He will be moved to a prison tomorrow. We cannot be seen as unwilling to protect our own citizens."

Sousa got up, signaling to Willow that their audience was at an end.

"But … Prince Liam is a senior member of the Royal Family. He has immunity from prosecution, surely."

"I'm sorry," the captain said, moving to the door and opening it. "His immunity was revoked 3 days ago. Your friend is on his own, Miss."

Realizing that it was futile to argue with him, Willow got up and left the room. As she walked towards the exit, she bit her lip hard, trying to stop the tears. Robert had done this … He had revoked Liam's immunity; he had recalled the ambassador to London.

It shouldn't have surprised her but somehow it did. It was a familiar pattern. No matter how hard Willow had tried to build a solid foundation for the two of them, the lies and deception would always bring the card palace tumbling down.

-oOo-

Liam kept opening and closing his fists, tightening the grip as much as he could. His knuckles were swollen and bruised red. Each movement, as the skin stretched and then relaxed, hurt like hell but it kept his mind from wandering.

The cell he had been placed in two days before was small and damp. He hadn't been taken out; no one had come to talk to him or to ask questions. A flicker of light coming from a small opening in the wall behind him, close to the ceiling, was the only indication that time was passing.

As he sat on the concrete bench that was intended as a bed of sorts, his legs pressed up against his chest, he was beginning to realize that, in that moment, he was more alone than he had been his entire life.

Being alone was dangerous for Liam, particularly now. It gave him time to think … and to remember.

He thought about her beautiful smile when she would wake up in the morning, the way the sun would hit her golden hair or the sound of her voice when she said his name. Mostly he thought about the last time he had held her in his arms. The way he had wrapped his arms around her waist, the way he had cradled her slightly swollen belly and had told her he needed to keep her and his baby safe.

As painful as they were now, those were the happy memories … What followed was what really filled him with dread. If someone had asked him, he could say with exact accuracy the moment when his life had been ruined forever: precisely 722 hours, 45 minutes and 12 seconds ago. It had been on a Tuesday, 3 days after his failed coup. He had slipped from the palace determined to get Kathryn and leave England for good. They had exchanged messages through her father in the past days and had arranged to meet in the place that had held their beginning and, as he would find out, their end.

He could still remember walking into the empty pub and seeing her dad sitting at a table, crying like a baby. "My two daughters …" he had said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Both gone …" It was an accident on the highway, he explained. No one had been to blame.

Liam knew that to be a lie. There was someone to blame … Him. He hadn't been there to protect her. She and his baby were the price he had to pay for what he had done.

There was nothing he could do. No way to rectify the wrongs of the past or to get back what he had lost. Faced with that guilt, he had chosen to run away. But now, in a dampened, dark cell in Rio, it had finally come crushing back on him.

"Look at the little chorao …"

The sound of another voice so close to him almost startled him. He looked up and saw a boy standing next to the cell bars. The guards must have brought him in at some point, but Liam couldn't remember hearing it.

He was very young and slender, barely as tall as him. He was dressed in rags and as he talked, Liam could see two of his teeth were missing. A few months ago, he would have felt bad for the kid, tried to help him in some way but now he just stared blankly at him, no energy left to care.

"Why you cry, chorao?" he asked

Liam didn't answer.

The kid must have taken offence because he got closer to the bed and ordered him: "Move!" he said. "I sit on bed!"

Liam looked up menacingly. "Why don't you try and move me?" he said, while tightening his fists until the knuckles went white.

Something in his tone alerted the kid because he moved back, his eyes large with fear. He shrugged it off quickly and went back to being a pain. "Fine, sit on bed. You go to Dias Moreira tomorrow anyway … You die there."

It was more than a euphemism, Liam could tell. "Who told you that?"

The boy shrugged, feeling proud of himself for getting his attention. "My cousin … he say they wait for the little chorao prince. They kill him. Order from big boss."

"Who's the big boss?"

"You know nothing, do you?" the boy said, aggravated. "Moranguinho! He know important people … he do favor for them and kill you! "

Liam smiled bitterly. He knew exactly who those 'important people' were.

-oOo-

"As your Majesty can see from the footage, Prince Liam and Miss Moreno arrive at the hotel at just after 12 o'clock at night," Hill said, as he forwarded through the mobile camera footage that had been taken on the night of Liam's incident. "The moment they arrive, the media storms them."

Robert had always appreciated his debriefings with James Hill. As Head of Security, he was impeccable. Efficient, to the point, incredibly observant and not prone to long widened speeches. Too bad his weakness for Frost made him slip. He had no doubt that it was his affection for his sister's bodyguard that had turned the usually reliable man conveniently myopic to the coup that was being organized right under his nose.

Still, Robert reasoned, the worst thing about being king was that there was really no one he could truly trust. Because of either greed, ambition or ill advised feelings, all those around him ended up disappointing him in some way. The footage playing in front of his eyes, of his own brother and his once fiancée arriving at their hotel after a midnight stroll on the beach, was proof enough of that.

He refused to be hurt by it, though. He had accepted the risk when he had taken the crown.

"As the paparazzi encircle them, you can notice the Brazilian reporter looking behind him," Hill said.

He paused the video on the frame of the man Liam attacked turning his head towards a black car parked just across the street.

"Yes. He seems to be looking at the Rolls Royce parked right behind him."

"Exactly, Your Majesty. And if you watch the car, it starts moving the moment Liam attacks the journalist." As James fast forwards to the attack, the car clearly disappears from view.

"Is it your expert opinion that my brother was framed, Mr. Hill?"

"It is. Nothing really fits. Your brother and his girl …"

James stopped himself from saying what the entire nation was most likely thinking. Robert appreciated the effort, not that it really helped at this point. He had tried his best to minimize the damage during the press conference but he was a realist. _'King's brother runs off with his fiancée'_ would be a headline that he would have to grapple with for a long time to come. His brother and Willow had turned his entire life and, more importantly, his reign into a goddamn daytime soap opera.

"Your brother and Miss Moreno," Hill continued, "had been in Rio for 2 weeks before the attack and went completely undetected. It seems far too convenient that this incident occurred a day after you had revoked the prince's immunity. "

His entire life, Robert had practiced controlling his face and body movements in order to indicate, in no uncertain terms, what he wanted people to do and say. He didn't appreciate the implication that it had been his actions that had gotten his brother in the mess he was in and the look he gave his Head of Security left the man in no doubt of that.

"Also the Rolls Royce is suspicious …," Hill said, rectifying his mistake.

"Cars have been known to drive away in Rio de Janeiro, Mr. Hill …" Robert said, incredulously.

"Your Majesty, I believe someone has been planning this for quite some time," he said, refusing to back down. "If that is true, it must have been a person that had first-hand knowledge of the private going-ones of the Palace."

Robert leaned back into his sofa and decided to put a stop to the conversation. He had heard everything he needed to know on the subject.

"We are the Royal Family," he said. "Nothing we ever do is truly private. Liam forgot that and now he is faced with the consequences."

"With all due respect, I believe your brother is in grave danger. If you do not act to protect him, I think the entire Royal Family will be faced with the consequences."

"Nonsense … a few months in prison might actually help him build some character."

Robert's own words gave him pause. It shocked him to hear himself sound so callous. For a split second, a memory flashed before his eyes of a scrape kneed 10 year old Liam running towards him from the football field. But that was replaced quickly by the image currently on his TV screen, of him holding Willow's hand and her looking at him with fondness.

"I stood in front of the press and the world today," he said, still starring at the screen, "and promised them that Great Britain respects and upholds the laws of all other sovereign nations. While I personally deplore what has happened to my brother, as king, I must keep my word to my people."

Hill seemed to understand, as he nodded. "The people of this country deserve a king that is as good as his word. That is true," he said. "But they also deserve one that is merciful. Your brother is young and foolish. Don't let a personal wound cause a tragedy you will end up regretting once the resentment has passed."

It was a good speech, Robert admitted. Almost fatherly in its wisdom and so foolish in its intention. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Hill."

The man sighed deeply, obviously disappointed, and he turned to leave.

"Ah, Mr. Hill…" Robert stopped him just as he opened the door, "I almost forgot. Is the other thing taken care of?"

Hill seemed confused by the change of topic and it took a minute for him to answer. "It's in progress as we speak, Your Majesty."

"Good," Robert said, pleased that at least something was going according to plan. "Let me know once it's done."

Robert waited until after his Head of Security firmly closed the door behind him before playing the footage from the beginning.

He forced himself to sit through it, even as his pulse rose. The sight of Willow and Liam standing so close to one another that their arms brushed against the other's, made him angry.

He was alone in his study but he did not allow his anger to show. It wasn't in his nature to give away his feelings. Ironically enough, he wasn't prepared to do so even to himself.

' _Whore!'_

The sound of the man's voice jolted him. He saw Willow turn towards him, her eyes wide and hurt. That look … it stirred something in him. Something he thought he had buried the night she ran away with Liam, without any explanation.

' _Was she a good fuck?'_

His brother's face changed completely when he heard the journalist's words. Robert knew that change well. Liam was so easy to rile up into a violent frenzy. Impulsive, headstrong, unaware of the consequences … _All heart_ …

He didn't know how much time he spent watching it but by evening's end, he had replayed that moment over and over again.

-oOo-

The cuffs went on his wrists and the bearded guard tightened them securely, making Liam wince. Two other guards came to stand by either side of him and pushed him forward, out of the cell.

He looked back to see the boy, Mateo as he was called, sleeping soundly on the stone bench. In the early hours of the morning, Liam had found it impossible to stay still any longer so he got up from the bed and starting pacing the cell back and forth, furiously. Mateo had looked at him in confusion and ultimately shrugged. He quickly got up from the floor and laid on the bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

It surprised Liam. He had found the bed hard and cold. The flimsy blanket covering it was far too damp and even through his jacket he could feel the coarse material irritating his skin. The human body, he thought, had a strange way of adapting to the worst of conditions.

As he was led down the corridor towards the police station exit, he decided he was going to force his body to adapt to whatever condition he was about to encounter and he began mentally preparing himself for the meeting with the so called Moranguinho. After all, his life was essentially over anyway so what was there to fear? His brother thought he had him cornered, that he would get rid of the spare by burying him in a Brazilian prison. But if Robert could survive on a desert island for 10 months, Liam could fight his way out of this. If for no other reason but not to give his brother the satisfaction of getting what he wanted.

The entrance was filled with policemen, creating a barrier for the dozen or so onlookers that were in the station and that were clamoring to see a real, live Prince in handcuffs. The uniformed men kept them at bay, pushing them back as the three officers scurried Liam towards the door.

"Let me pass!"

Liam turned to see Willow trying to push her way through the line. She had that determined look on her face that he had seen during their polo match and when she realized she couldn't push them away, she bent down and made a run for it, from beneath their extended arms.

"I've talked to your mother," she said quickly. "Don't worry! We're going to get you out!"

Before she could reach him, one of the guards caught her and began dragging her back behind the line.

"Leave her alone!" Liam yelled, before the Beard grabbed his hands and pulled him towards the exit.

"Liam!"

"Go home, Willow!" he said, speaking over his shoulder as he tried and failed to catch a glimpse of her. "Don't worry about me! I'll be fine!"

Suddenly, the doors to the police station opened. Liam squinted as the flash of several cameras were aimed at him. The journalists had already gathered to report on his transfer and the agitation was palpable.

Through the door, a man dressed in a black suit and wearing dark sunglasses walked in. He stopped in front of the Beard and began talking to him in Portuguese. The officer seemed taken aback by what the man was saying and he kept shaking his head. Liam tried to make sense of the words but it was no use. It was clear, though, that the man in black was not going to give up. They finally left together, while Liam and everyone else was left standing in front of the door for no apparent reason.

Minutes passed before the two men returned with a third one. He was tall and dignified, unlike the sweaty, angry guards he had been faced with until then. He was also clearly displeased with what he was about to do.

"Your Royal Highness," he said, taking his cuffed hand and shaking it. "I am Aleixo Sousa. On behalf of my police station and my men, I apologize for any trouble we might have caused you."

With a dry, polite smile that did not reach his eyes, Sousa took the keys from the Beard and uncuffed Liam.

"You are free to go," he said. "Although, I believe it is best for you to exit through the back door. My men will accompany you."

He then turned and spoke to the officer restraining Willow. She was released and she came rushing to Liam's side.

Bewildered as they were, they did not think to ask for an explanation and none was offered.

They made their way to the back of the police station, towards the fire escape, begrudgingly guided by two officers. As soon as they stepped outside, the officers turned around slamming the door behind them.

Willow and Liam barely had time to process anything, as they looked at each other in amazement that they had made it out of there.

They heard a car horn before turning and seeing a black Rolls Royce parked at a small distance away from them.

"Mum must have worked her magic," Liam said. He felt a strange wave of relief wash over him. He was sure he was prepared to fight and, potentially, die but now that it was over he had to admit he very much preferred not meeting the famous Moranguinho.

"I told you we would get you out," Willow said. She took his hand and they walked to the car.

As they climbed into the back seat, they found a man waiting for them. He was a bit older than him, Liam estimated, with dark hair and slightly bronzed skin. He mentally ran through all the Palace employees but he couldn't remember the oval, sharp chinned face and he very much doubted someone working for the Royal Family could afford the Desmond Merrion suit he was wearing.

He saw the man smiling at Willow and he turned to look at her.

She was completely shocked and slumped back into the car cushion as she stared at the man.

"Luis?" she said. "What are _you_ doing here?"

-oOo-

"We now have official confirmation that His Royal Highness, Prince Liam, has been released from the police station in Rio de Janeiro." The news presenter spoke hurriedly reading off the teleprompter, as a breaking news tag covered the bottom of the screen.

"Details as to the exact nature of his release and the reasons behind it are unclear at this time, as the officials in Rio de Janeiro are refusing to talk to the press. The prince has not been seen in public since his apprehension and as media from around the world converge on the now infamous Copacabana hotel, we can only pray that, wherever he is, our Prince is out of harms way."

Robert turned off the TV and took another gulp of his scotch. It had been a tiring and deeply frustrating day. He had discarded his jacket and tie and rolled the sleeves on his shirt. It was the one bit of comfort he allowed himself at the end of the day.

He leaned back into the sofa and tilted his head back, closing his eyes. He exhaled deeply as if trying to expel some cumbersome burden.

"So the evil little brother won't go to prison after all."

Robert remained still, his eyes still closed. "You're late," he said.

"I had trouble picking my outfit," came the response delivered in a perfectly practiced sultry voice. "Do you like?"

Robert slowly opened his eyes and watched as Cassandra approached the sofa, walking slowly, undulating her movements like a snake making its way to the unsuspecting prey. She was not a beautiful woman by any means. Her features were too harsh and her eyes too far apart. But she was resourceful; Robert had to give her that. She made the most out of what she had.

He took his time answering, measuring her from head to toe. She came to stand right in front of him, hands on hips, striking a pose.

She was wearing a tight, black dress with a zipper that ran all the way down the front of it. "Seems like a waste," he said. He held her with his gaze for a moment before grabbing the zipper and pulling it all the way down, to reveal an equally black lingerie set. He gave her a sharp smile to show his approval, before leaning back and stretching his arms on the back of the sofa.

Cassandra accepted the invitation and she dropped her dress to the floor before climbing onto his lap. Her fingers began slowly caressing the exposed skin around his collar. "Your brother getting out of prison is bad for you. You know that, don't you?"

"Is it?"

"Now that he's out and the press knows about them, they'll follow him and Miss Sweet and Innocent all over the world."

Robert turned his head momentarily and dropped his eyes. She must have sensed the moment of hesitation so she continued.

"Imagine the pictures of them frolicking on the most famous beaches in the world, meeting foreign dignitaries in your name …"

He grit his teeth. "Are these the famous Trojan predictions of the day?" he said, looking at her.

"Oh no, my darling," she said, moving her hands to his face and edging closer to him. "Those are the facts."

He took one of the brown strands of her hair into his hand, wrapping it around a finger. He looked for the small golden flexes and the reddish tint he had come to expect from brown hair but it wasn't there. He let it slip through his fingers disappointed, before looking up at her. "And I imagine you have a solution to counterattack these … facts."

"Of course. The only solution that makes sense. The only one that will change the narrative."

When Robert raised his eyebrows questioningly, she smiled slyly and put her mouth to his ear. "Give the country a new queen."

He seemed to consider it for a moment and then he put his hands on her hips, pulling her body closer to his chest.

Cassandra's face brightened with the feeling of victory. "We're good together," she whispered. "And you need me. Your brother's coup is only the tip of the iceberg of what I can bring to the table …"

She looked at him expectantly, her brown eyes hungry. He let her wait, allowing her expectations to rise. "I'll think about it," he finally said.

She let out an exasperated sigh but did not move. It was a moment before she composed herself and smiled, encircling his neck with her arms. "You do that, my darling. But while you do, don't you think we should perhaps hold our secret rendezvous in your bedroom? The sofa is starting to hurt my back."

Robert laughed and brought his mouth tantalizing close to hers, only to pull away.

"Cassandra, don't be disappointing," he said. "You say you want to be queen. Do you want my bed or do you want power?" He raised his arms and held her gaze coldly. "Look around you. This is as close to power as you're ever going to get."

She looked around the room for a moment and eyed him suspiciously, as if deciding which meaning to take from his words. As she opened her mouth to speak, he put a finger over her lips.

"Now shut up," he said. "And show me what you can do with your mouth."

-oOo-

 _One_ … They were in a small bar on the outskirts of Rio de Janeiro. When Liam had asked if the tequila was any good, Luis said that it made you like Superman during the night and it hit you like Kryptonite in the morning.

Liam could use some Kryptonite.

"You just got out of prison. I think we need to celebrate!" Luis put the bottle of tequila in the middle of the table after pouring three shots.

He pushed two of the glasses towards Willow and Liam.

He took his glass, held it with the palm of his hand and rolled it stylistically to his mouth before drinking it.

"Show off!" Willow said, rolling her eyes. She licked the salt off the back of her hand and downed her shot, without showing any kind of sign that the alcohol was too much for her.

"Got to love a woman who can hold her drink," Luis said, smiling broadly at her. "Mina, do you remember that time we were in Cancun and you got up on the bar …"

"Hey!" she said, pointing her finger at him. "You promised you would never talk about that!"

Liam looked at them in confusion, not quite understanding what was happening. "How do you guys know each other again?"

"Luis' father was the Venezuelan ambassador to Buenos Aires for years. We grew up together," Willow said.

Luis leaned in and whispered towards Liam: "She used to pretend that we were characters in Sailor Moon …"

"Hey!" Willow said, hitting him playfully across the arm.

"I had to wear a skirt! It was essentially torture," he defended himself to Liam.

As Luis recounted how he had arrived in Brazil a month before to set up a charity for poor people who couldn't afford expensive cancer treatment, Liam gained a great deal of respect for him. When he went on to explain that as soon as he found out that Willow and Liam were in trouble, he got on the phone with the Attorney General of the Union, an old friend of his father's, Luis Carlos Villanueva had gained a friend for life.

"I'm very grateful to you," Liam said.

Luis shrugged it off: "To be honest, I think you were more trouble to them then you were worth," he told Liam.

Liam smiled, pouring himself and the others another drink. He raised his glass. "Cheers!"

 _Two … three … four … five_

Liam held the bottle of tequila tightly as he ran in front of Willow and Luis, spinning as he went. The world was all topsy turvy and he decided to embrace it. Thoughts no longer were forming coherently and it was a blessed relief.

For a moment he considered that perhaps he was drunk. He had nothing to eat all day after all but, strangely enough, he didn't feel hungry … He felt …

"Alive!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. "I'm alive."

Through a daze, he heard Willow's voice. "Perhaps we should get him into a bed."

Luis laughed. "Calm down. He's been locked up for two days. I'd go a little crazy too if I was in his place."

Liam turned around, staggering on his feet. He held on to the bottle tightly. He was sure it was the only thing keeping him in balance. "Right … you … are, mate," he said, slurring his words. "Right you are."

 _Six_ … _Seven_ … _Eight_ ... _Nine_ ... _Ten_ ...

The beat of the electronic music seemed to bang directly into his brain. He bopped his head frantically, jumping up and down. He looked around and, through the darkness, saw a sea of people covered in florescent paint. He looked down and he saw that his skin and his clothes were covered in shades of green and yellow. He didn't know where he was but he didn't care.

"Are you sure you're ok?"

Willow shouted directly into his ear and the sound pierced his already assaulted eardrum. He turned and his eyes grew large as he saw that Willow was completely covered in blue florescent paint.

He burst out laughing. "You look like a smurf!" he shouted over the music.

Willow laughed as well, slightly confused and perhaps a little offended. "Thanks …"

"A very cute …" he said, trying his best to pronounce the words. "Large …sssssmurf"

 _Eleven_ … _Twelve_ … _Thirteen_ … _Fourteen_ …

He felt himself float above the cobbled stoned streets of Rio. A pleasant breeze brushed against his skin. He felt as light as air. Luis was right.

"I'm Superman!" he shouted.

"You're super, extra heavy, that's for sure."

It couldn't be. It sounded like James Hill's voice. What was he doing in Rio?

"James?" he said. "James, is that you?"

"Yes, Your Highness," he said, his voice strained. "It's me … unfortunately."

"You can fly too or …." Liam tried to make sense of the thoughts in his head, "or … have you gotten taller?" He burst out laughing.

"No, I haven't gotten taller …. What the hell did you give him?!"

"Just some tequila."

Liam jumped as he heard the second voice, coming from his right. Suddenly, he realized that his arms were stretched over Luis' and James' shoulders. He wasn't Superman after all …

His vision became blurry and everything started to spin. "Luis," he said. "I'm sssstarting to … to feel the Krypt ….krypto … thhhhing."

As the world became more and more blurry, the last thing he heard was James' voice.

"Don't worry, son. I'm taking you home."

-oOo-

Walking towards the Royal jet on the airport track felt, in more ways than one, like a walk of shame. Willow's head was still threatening to explode from the excursions of the past night but as she looked at Liam, she felt like she wasn't doing that badly.

He was white as a sheet and still staggering under the effects of the "Kryptonite". Since they were unable to go back to the Copacabana, he had been stuck in his painted covered tux. Not that he seemed to notice and not that she was one to judge. She was after all covered in blue paint. She had tried to scrub it off in the shower but the damn thing didn't want to come off. Smurf indeed...

Luis walked alongside them, dressed in a casual pair of white trousers and shirt, looking very much like some sort of Arabian prince. He had been blessed with an impeccable metabolism that allowed him to drink copious amounts of liquor without the slightest side effect. Considering his history, Willow knew that he had put that 'superpower' to the test many times.

As they got closer to the jet, Willow could see James walking inside the aircraft, towards the pilot's cockpit, no doubt setting up the final details before the flight. Around the jet, James' security team flanked the staircase, waiting for Liam to board.

Willow shook her head. The Firm, as Queen Helena often called it, had a strange way to bring normalcy to even the weirdest of circumstances.

As they reached the stairs, Liam turned towards her. He kept his sunglasses pressed up against his face. Whether it was to shield himself from the sun light or the rest of the world from his battered state, Willow couldn't quite decide.

He smiled at her and it left a pit in Willow's stomach. It was time to say goodbye. The last link to what had been her life until then was about to fall away.

"Well, it was fun," Liam said.

Willow laughed bitterly. "We were a pathetic mess, Liam."

Liam nodded and wrapped her arms around her. "See you soon!" he said.

"Sure," she said, biting her bottom lip. "There's always next year's carnival."

"We'll meet well before that," he said, looking at her. "When you come back to London."

Willow shook her head. "I don't think that's possible for me …"

"Nonsense," Liam said, frowning. "You've got an invitation."

He turned and began climbing the stairs.

"From whom?"

"From His Royal Highness, Prince Liam of Henstridge," he said, looking back at her.

Willow smiled and waved at him as he got on the plane. She stood there, concentrating very hard not to cry as she saw the door to the plane closing.

"What do you want to do now?" Luis asked.

Willow took a moment to answer. "I want to go home."


End file.
